Instant Chemistry
by waddlingdodo
Summary: Quiet, nerdy, no-game-Santana Lopez goes through university life where she meets quirky, outgoing and equally nerdy Brittany S. Pierce. AU College!Brittana featuring Nerd!Santana.
1. Instant Chemistry

They're all sitting there, the rest of my floormates, gathered around the round table in the lounge talking about their weekend and first week of classes.

I'm almost a little disappointed that I'm not there with them but I have course outlines to read over and print out before tomorrow. I have binder price tags that need to come off, lined paper and subject tags to stick in and on the binders. I have to write out my schedule and plan my route so I don't get lost on campus. I have to do all these things before showering and going to bed before 10pm.

Can't be tired on the first day of class!

Wow, even _I _think that was pretty nerdy...maybe I'll sleep a little later. Like, 10:30pm.

I close my book and make my way to the walkway connecting the lounge with West and East Quad.

"Hey, Santana!"

I stop walking and turn around to the round table, "Oh, hi guys."

Trying to occupy my suddenly shaking hands, I nudge my glasses up and clutch my book to my chest, fingering the slightly frayed pages.

"Going back to your room already?" Lizzy-I think it's Lizzy-asks, with a slight mock to her voice.

"Um, yeah. I got a lot of preparing to do for classes this week."

They all giggle and whisper to themselves before one of them replies, Delilah, I think, "Well run along then, I'm sure it takes a long time to clean those glasses of yours."

Some of the girls laugh. The others just smirk at Delilah and return their gaze to me, waiting for my reply. I pause to look down at my feet before lifting my head up, adjusting my glasses again and taking a deep breath.

"You guys should head to bed soon too. You need all the beauty sleep you can get."

My comeback makes Lizzy, Delilah, and a couple other girls gasp in shock. The rest of them laugh it off because they don't think I was talking about them, but I was. As soon as I turn to leave I hear someone running towards us.

"Hey, have you guys seen Lord Tubbington?" My eyebrows knit in confusion. Who the hell is Lord Tubbington? I turn around to see all the girls' attention focused on the concerned stranger.

"Brittany, you know you're not allowed to have pets in the dorm."

"No, I know but I made my parents bring him up here when they dropped me off so I could be with him one last time. I guess he must have snuck out of my room after I locked myself out of our floor."

I give her a quick glance-over and I instantly feel sympathetic. Her golden hair is up in a messy ponytail, about a couple shakes away from coming completely undone. Her sweats are actually sweat-stained and her cheeks are flushed. She had been running around for some time.

Delilah pulls out her phone and checks the time, "Isn't it like, 8pm? Why haven't you found him yet? He can't stay in the dorm, Brittany. Rebecca is allergic and she's gonna find out and then tell the head of the residence about you and your cat."

Brittany sighs and smooths back a few stray strands of hair. She turns around and glances around the common room quickly before looking at the table of girls again.

They've completely forgotten about her and resumed chatting about their dull lives and equally dull interests. Brittany opens her mouth to speak but I cut her off, "I'll help you look for him."

Brittany looks up at me and her pout is replaced by a big toothy grin as she bounds across the room, more of her hair falling from her ponytail.

"Really? You'll help me look for him?"

"Sure. I mean, I have some time before I have to get ready for tomorrow." Brittany jumps up and down with excitement and I can't help but giggle as her ponytail completely comes undone.

Some of the girls glance up from their conversations at us but the rest are too busy tapping away on their phones to pay us any attention.

I open the door and head down the walkway while Brittany follows. The chilled air of the evening hits our skin, the first sign of autumn evident as fallen leaves are strewn across the ground, dragged around by freshman feet.

Brittany lets out a breath of exhaustion, finally taking the elastic from her hair and combing her fingers through it.

"So, how come I've never seen you on my floor? I know we just moved in this weekend but I didn't see you at our floor meeting." I ask, trying to make small talk

"Oh, I don't live on your floor. I live in South Quad." I turn my head to look up at her, hair elastic in her mouth as she gathers her hair into another ponytail. Suddenly self-conscious, I smooth down my own hair and tuck it behind one ear.

"Then how did those girls already know you? I know they only moved in today."

"Oh, I got lost in the West Quad today asking people for batteries. Those girls asked me if it was for my vibrator but it's really for my prototype."

I look up from my feet, confused again. Brittany seems to have a knack for confusing me.

"Prototype?"

"Yup, I'm building a time machine. I finally finished all the blueprints over the summer so it's time to start building it."

Brittany also seems to have a knack for surprising me. We enter West Quad and start climbing the stairs, "Wow, you must be really smart to build a time machine."

That earns me a shy giggle from Brittany, "Yeah, well I don't like to brag. I've never told anyone about my time machine before, just you."

"Really? Why just me?"

"I don't know. You wanted to help me find Lord Tubbington. Everyone else just gives me funny looks or laughs when I ask them for help."

I scoff, remembering those silly girls in the common room. "Yeah, those girls back there aren't very nice. I'd stay away from them if I were you. They don't get people like us."

"Like us? What do you mean like us?" I pause on the stairs and turn around. Brittany's at the bottom, looking up at me with curiously bright blue eyes.

My hands start shaking again so I grip my book tighter. "You know..." Brittany doesn't seem to get what I mean, her head tilting to the side in slight confusion.

"Nerds, we're nerds." I sighed and quickly flipped through the book's pages, my hands suddenly sweaty. "W-We're nerds."

She raises her eyebrows and thinks for a moment before pouting, "I'm not a nerd and I don't think you're a nerd either."

I can't help but laugh at how sure she sounds, "You're kidding right? I mean, I guess maybe you don't look like a nerd but I do." I look down at my T-shirt sporting one of my favourite Chemistry "jokes".

When I glance up at Brittany, she's staring at my T-shirt, pondering the punchline.

"Vanadium, Silver, Iodine, Sodium." She reads it aloud and bursts into laughter, covering her mouth in embarrassment at her sudden fit of giggles.

"Oh, so you got it did you?" I wiggle my eyebrows at her which only makes her laugh harder.

"C'mon, goofball, let's go look for your cat."

* * *

"Let me just put my book away and we'll go look for Lord Tubbington." Brittany nods and twirls around to look at the floor's bulletin board. I smile, watching her sway as she read the calendar of birthdays and events.

I unlock my door and toss the book on my bed, not even bothering to turn the light on. The book lands with a thud and something lets out a moan of disapproval in the darkness.

I pause mid-stride and reach blindly for the light switch. Golden eyes blink repeatedly at me in the now lit room. "Uh, Britt, I think I found your cat."

Brittany pops up behind me and peers over my shoulder, "Lord Tubbington! There you are!" She shoves past me and kneels at the edge of the bed to stroke the enormous cat's fur. He leans into her touch with a content look on his face. For some reason I wish that was me she was petting.

Ahem.

"He must've snuck in through your window." Brittany says plainly. I glance at the window and sure enough, a gentle breeze is flowing in from a wide open window, the curtains moving with the wind. I move to shut the window before something else has the chance to climb in.

"People don't know it from looking at him, but Lord Tubbington is a secret agent in training. I guess he just wanted to practice his dorm scaling in case he wants to come visit." She scratches him behind the ears as he closes his eyes and purrs.

That still doesn't explain how he opened my window. As if sensing my bewilderment he opens his eyes and stares at me. Our eyes lock in silent battle and I glance down to see him lying on the clothes I had laid out for tomorrow.

"Oh no...my sweater vest!" I pull the clothing out from under him and he rolls backwards from the movement. I shake the sweater vest only to have the cat hair disperse into the air, plenty more still stuck on the front as if it were a lint brush.

Brittany stands up and asks with a worried look on her face, "Are you allergic to cats?"

I sigh and toss the sweater vest in my hamper in the corner of my room, "No, but it's okay I'll just wear something else tomorrow."

She scoops the giant cat in her arms and he stretches his arms out across her shoulder before settling against her chest. "I've gotta go bring him back to my parents. They're probably wondering where I went."

I catch myself adjusting my glasses yet again and stuff my hands in my pockets, "Okay, do you want me to come with you?"

Brittany bites her bottom lip in hestitation, "Only if you want to. It's just that I already got lost on campus once, today."

"Well, then I'm definitely going with you then. C'mon, let's get him to your parents."

I lock the windows and take one last scan of the room before closing and locking the door behind me.

* * *

Brittany hands Lord Tubbington to her dad who puts him into his own makeshift car seat in their van. She hugs her mom goodbye as her little sister hugs her legs, tiny hands clutching at her sweats. When her dad is finished buckling the big cat in he joins them in a group hug.

I guess I should be busying myself somehow, stuffing my hands in my pockets again and turning around. A hand grabs my shoulder and pulls me into their group hug in between Brittany and her dad, sandwiching her little sister in the middle.

They pile into the van and Brittany waves goodbye, tearfully, as they drive off. The walk back to the dorm is silent as Brittany sniffles and wipes her face as tears continue to fall. I put my arm around her shoulder and hold her close, her warmth enveloping my left side as we walk towards her quad.

"What class do you have tomorrow?" she finally speaks. I look up at the starry night sky, taking a moment to remember my schedule.

"Ummm, Cell Biology. What about you?"

"Chemistry for Engineers." I nod at her answer. Of course she's in the engineering program.

We stop outside the stairway to South Quad, "Want me to walk you to your first class tomorrow? Y'know so you don't get lost on the first day?"

Brittany smiles down at me, "I'd like that. Wanna meet in the cafeteria at 7:30 tomorrow for breakfast?"

I return her smile, "I'd like that too." There's a brief pause, "How did you know I'd be able to walk you to class? You didn't tell me what time your class was."

She rolls her eyes, "Because, you just told me, silly. Also, you offered to walk me so if we had a schedule conflict that wouldn't have been very smart of you."

I open my mouth to reply but find my mind drawing blanks. Brittany giggles and leans down to kiss me. Her lips are soft and are cushioned against mine but the contact is short as she breaks the kiss before I even have a chance to return the kiss.

I lick my lips instinctively. Root beer Lip Smackers. "H-How did you know that I was a-"

"Lady loving girl that has the potential to give the best sweet lady kisses ever? Your t-shirt?"

Oh. Right. I'm not so sure about the so called "Sweet lady kisses" though.

I have nothing witty to say so I settle for just looking down at my shoes.

"I like you. Can I get your number?" she asks, with a smile in her voice. I fumble in my pockets for my cell phone. She types out her number into my phone and hands me her's to put my number in.

She cranes her neck to read what I'm typing, "Santana! That's a pretty name."

I look up at her in confusion and then it hits me. I didn't tell her my name until now.

"I-I-I'm sorry I didn't tell you my name, but to be fair you didn't ask!" I exclaim, playfully slapping her shoulder. She reels back in mock pain, "It's okay I still like you just as much."

I close my eyes and shake my head at the butterflies in my stomach, "7:30 tomorrow at the caf?"

"7:30." She nods. I wave goodbye and make my way to my quad but a familiar hand spins me around into Brittany's waiting arms. I relax into her embrace and squeeze her back before she lets go.

I can feel her eyes on me, watching me walk to my quad until I'm out of sight.

Now I really can't wait to go to class tomorrow.


	2. Doogie Mouse

It becomes a ritual. I walk Brittany to her classes every other day. I don't have the heart to tell her that my first class is across campus from hers so I have to make it to my first class in less than 5 minutes to get a seat. I have a feeling that if she knew how much I go out of the way to walk her to her morning class she'd make me stop. I just have this feeling of responsibility about Brittany. Not only are we friends, but I have to take care of her like an older sister. It's an odd relationship but it's been working for us for the first month or so.

Speaking of relationship, Brittany seems to have the wrong idea about us from the very beginning when we first met. We're studying in the main coffee shop on campus and she's shooting me flirty looks and stealing sips from my coffee despite the fact that she has her own drink, steeped tea, right next to her.

"Y'know, tea is much better for you than coffee," she says, placing my half empty cup back next to my books. She's twirling her pen in her hand and looking at me with bright eyes, daring me to counter her argument, rebuttal ready on her tongue.

I take her offer for an argument and reply, "Maybe, but tea is more bitter than coffee."

She laughs, "You put at least 3 portions of sugar and cream! Of course tea is going to be more bitter than coffee to you. Certain teas can be sweet without adding anything. You just haven't tried the right one."

She gulps down the rest of her tea and tosses it into the garbage bin behind her in triumph. Why do I always get myself into arguments I know I can't win?

Brittany returns to her seat and folds her arms across her chest. Her eyes are tracing every aspect of my face, analyzing my expression for inner thoughts to form her next argument.

"You think coffee is a more mature drink, so you drink it to feel like an adult," she finally says, tongue peeking out between her teeth in a cheeky smile. I can't help but roll my eyes at her personal attack, "Oh please, tea is for old ladies and the English. If anyone is trying to be mature by drinking tea, it's you."

I take a long drink from my cup, cringing to find that the coffee has gone cold, "In any case, I do have to compensate for my maturity. I'm a year younger than everyone else."

Brittany raises her eyebrows at this. Apparently our study session has been long forgotten and my age is much more important at this point.

"You're a year younger? Did you have a growth spurt and confuse the school staff?"

I might have imagined it but Brittany's eyes appeared to have flickered down to my chest and back. I cross my arms defensively over my chest, "No, I didn't have a growth spurt and they didn't make a mistake. They just thought it'd be in my best interest to move me ahead a grade because I was clearly bored with colouring in the lines and spelling lessons."

Brittany laughs and leans forward on the table, chin propped up in her hand, "Colouring in the lines? When did you skip ahead?"

I look down sheepishly before answering, "I was skipped ahead in Gr. 2 to Gr. 3, then they had me tested for "intellectual giftedness"." It isn't really all that impressive to be skipped ahead that early in life.

Brittany seems to think otherwise, "Really? Did you pass the test?"

I nodded and took this opportunity to toss my cup, aiming for the trash can from my seat as Brittany ducks, laughing when I completely miss the bin. People waiting in line are watching me as I get up to clean up the spill while Brittany turns in her seat to talk to me, crouched on the ground.

"I got tested too, but I think it was because my teachers could never understand my thought process so they hoped that I was just "special". So you were like a young genius then?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that, but I was definitely not challenged by anything they were teaching." I wad up the used paper towels and toss it in the bin with the now empty cup. Brittany is smiling at me with bright eyes again, like she just discovered the lost city of Atlantis.

"You're a Doogie mouse," she says with a big grin. My eyebrow scrunches in confusion before I can even process a reply, "I'm a what?"

She reaches into her backpack and pulls out her physiology book, flipping through the pages until she finds the one she wants.

Brittany points to a picture of a mouse in a lab experiment, "A Doogie mouse, they're super smart young mice that learn really fast because they have genetically engineered MDMA receptors so their brain works faster when they get new information."

Not that I know what MDMA receptors are but I can definitely understand what she's trying to say, except for one thing. "Why are they called Doogie mice?"

Brittany snaps the book shut and stuffs it back into her backpack, "They're named after Doogie Howser, y'know, boy genius doctor at the tender age of 16?"

She's lost me again.

"It's an old show from the early 90's so that's why you probably don't know about it." I ask her how she knows the show and she just shrugs like it's common knowledge.

There's a new point of confusion for me now, "Why do you think I'm a Doogie mouse and not just like Doogie Howser?" Brittany shakes her head and just chuckles, "because, you're a little mouse."

I wait for more explanation but there isn't one. She seems pretty confident that I'm similar to this Doogie mouse. "But, hey, if it makes you feel better to be compared to Doogie Howser, he was played by Neil Patrick Harris so I guess it all works out for you."

Before I have a chance to counter her remark, she's packing up her belongings. "I gotta go now, I got my physics lab." She zips up her backpack and puts in her earphones, heading out of the coffee shop, but not before kissing me on the cheek.

It might have been because my ear was that close, but the sound of her kiss seemed to echo loudly across the room. I put my hand to my cheek, the lingering, tingling feel of her lips still on my quickly flushing cheeks. Suddenly, I realize where I am and look around to see if anyone saw Brittany's public display of affection. Sure enough, the barista is looking right at me and he whispers to another worker behind the counter. Other students turn back to their friends from watching us and conversations are restarted.

I can't help but feel a little embarrassed and self-conscious about what they must be thinking. More than that, I need to tell Brittany how I feel when she gets overly expressive with her feelings before she tries to kiss me again.


	3. Pink Lady

It's been a week since the coffee shop incident. There hasn't been a right moment to tell Brittany how I feel about her public displays of affection. We're starting to get swamped with assignments and reports. There's also the looming reminder that midterms are fast approaching. Since Brittany is an engineer-to-be, her midterms have a designated week where they're scheduled. The week before her midterms she has no classes- a designated reading week. I took this opportunity to tell her that we should take some time away from each other's constant presence to study for our midterms. She agreed without any need for convincing, so I took that as a good sign. Maybe that's all we needed, some time away from each other? Although this could easily backfire when our midterms ended and she'd be all over me again to compensate for her time away.

I'll worry about that after my midterms, for now, I have a major lab experiment to conduct and write a lengthy report on with my lab partner. The lab instructor lets us into the room and announces the usual safety protocol as we all make our way to our assigned cabinets. I'm surprised to find my workspace unoccupied, my lab partner missing. She's usually there before I am, walking briskly in front of everyone else to make use of all the possible time available. When I commented on her eagerness once, she told me instantly, as if by reflex, "For every minute spent in organizing, an hour is earned." I asked her where she heard that line, but she had resumed washing our glassware for our experiment.

She was always eerily prepared so it's odd that she's not here already. I crouch to the ground to unlock our cabinet. When I stand, the lab instructor is standing next to me with a young man with blonde hair next to her.

"Santana, this is Sam Evans. He's going to be your lab partner from now on." He offers me an awkward smile and extends his hand to me. His palm is rough when I shake it, but his grip is firm and reassuring.

"What happened to Gabrielle?" I ask, placing my hands into my lab coat pockets.

"She switched out. Luckily for you, Sam showed up just in time. He's enrolled in this course but because of some conflicts he wasn't around for the first couple of weeks," she explains. She pats him on the back and leaves us to resume patrolling the students.

Sam sighs and runs a hand through his hair, "I know what you're thinking: it's irresponsible to miss so much of school and just drop in during the middle of the term."

My eyes dart up to meet his, his expression sad and shameful. I suppose my silence only proves his theory. "I'm sure you have a good reason for not going to school that costs thousands of dollars for only 4 months," I tell him.

He shrugs on his lab coat and flips through his lab manual, not actually reading any of the words on the pages. "I was working," he finally says. I pause in the middle of cleaning a beaker to listen to his explanation. "My family has a bit of a money problem so I had to pay my tuition on my own. Even with the entrance scholarship the tuition is steep." I set down the beaker on the bench, blushing at my own ignorance. I _would _be one to make a snap judgment.

He explains that when he didn't pay his fees on time they didn't grant him access to his schedule. "Kind of hard to go to class if I don't know where and when they are," he chuckles. I apologize to him, but he tells me not to worry about it. He looks at me through his sweeping bangs and I hope that my apology sounded as sincere as his eyes look.

* * *

Sam is tapping absent mindedly on the edge of his stool while we both watch the burette drip basic solution into the flask, waiting for that persisting pink that signals the end of the reaction. He takes in a big breath and I decide the awkward silence has lasted long enough.

"So, what residence do you live in?"

"Oh, I'm from here. I live with my parents off-campus," he answers, stopping the burette and swirling the flask around. The pink cloud vanishes back into the solution on the second swirl, returning to its colourless appearance. "Which works out anyways, I hear residence is like four thousand each term."

I laugh awkwardly, reopening the burette to let the solution continue dripping slowly into the flask. His phone buzzes from inside his coat pocket and he glances around before fishing it out. I peer over his head and around the room to make sure none of the TAs are watching. Cell phones aren't allowed in the lab.

He smiles at the screen and quickly types out a text. When he's done he pockets his phone and jumps to his feet, rushing to close the burette. At some point, when we weren't looking, the experiment had finished. The solution now a deep shade of pink, instead of the slight pink tinge we were aiming for. He chuckles and turns off the magnetic stirrer, picking the flask up to swirl its contents.

"Guess we missed the endpoint by a lot," he says redundantly. I put my hand to my forehead and shake my head at our carelessness.

"Yeah, I guess we did. Good thing we have 2 more trials to _not mess up_." I stress the last few words and he sets the flask down, placing his hands on his hips, eyeing the solution.

"It looks like the Pink Lady," he says and looks at me with a big smile, expectantly. I narrow my eyes at him and when I don't reply he drops me more hints.

"From Wolverine and Doop Issue #1?" he adds. I stare blankly at him.

"Marvel comics? X-men? The guy with the adamantine claws coming out his knuckles?"

My lips form a silent "Oh" when I finally understand, "Sorry, I only read the new Batwoman comics."

"Psh, DC Comics," he scoffs.

"You must love comic books," I tell him, amusedly.

"Yeah, I do. _Marvel_ comics," he stresses. I roll my eyes and help him set up the next trial.

* * *

As we lock up our cabinets he asks for my email and phone number, in case he has any questions while writing the report. We exchange contact info and pack our belongings in silence. I can feel him watching me from behind as I take off my lab coat and retie my hair into a neater ponytail. I pause to listen for any movements from Sam, but he just sits there in silence, watching me. I turn to him, swinging my backpack over one shoulder before saying bye.

"Wait!" he finally yells as I'm halfway out the door. I turn towards him to see him rushing to me at the doorway, his books and lab coat sticking out of his hurriedly packed messenger bag. "I was wondering if you wanted to come to a Halloween party my friend is throwing?"

My heart races to a maddening pace. Is Sam asking me out to a party? I stammer out an "O-oh, I don't know…" and turn to make a quick exit out of the building. Sam is quick to follow me. I can hear his bag bouncing off his hip as he jogs to keep up with my pace.

"C'mon it'll be fun! It's off campus and no supervision, so you don't have to worry about being caught with any booze," he explains. I weave in and out of the crowd of students, trying to lose him so I don't have to reject him or worse, tell him more than a lab partner needs to know. Sam persists, swerving around and bumping into people in an attempt to stay by my side.

"You can dress up as Batwoman! I'll forgive you for reading DC comics!" he shouts over the bustling students. I finally stop, his geeky charm striking one of my heart strings. I turn to look up at him, the sun shining in his face as he squints down at me.

I give him a smirk,"You'd do that, even though you swore an oath to your Marvel comics?"

He laughs and nods, "Anything for a fellow superhero friend."

We share a smile. "I think we're going to be good friends, Sammy Evans." He looks down sheepishly and tugs at the strap of his bag, twisting it in his big hands.

Halloween would be about a week after all of my midterms so it would be a good opportunity to relax and forget about school for a night. Suddenly I was reminded of Brittany. She'd love to go to a costume party after a long and hard week of studying. Sam wouldn't mind, he's made it clear that he sees us as friends.

"Can I bring a friend to the party?" I ask.

Sam looks surprised as he stumbles to answer. "Y-yeah, sure I don't see why not."

I worry my lip between my teeth. Maybe he _was_ hoping I'd come alone and he really was flirting with me today. He looks up at the treetops, high above the science buildings. He thinks for a moment before finally giving me a confident nod.

"Yeah, you can bring a _friend_," he says. "Just make sure she's not cuter than you," he adds in a lower voice and gives my shoulder a squeeze before leaving me in the middle of the pathway with my thoughts.

I walk back to my dorm, contemplating whether or not I should tell Brittany about Sam. It's not like we're dating, but I have a feeling Brittany would want to know. I decide against it, opting to see how this friendship with Sam goes.


	4. Bloody Mary

**AN: For those of you wondering if this is Brittana or Samtana, don't worry, Brittana is endgame.**

**I have a few things planned for this AU, but I'm starting to dislike my own creation and I'm thinking about not continuing this, but we'll see.**

**Enjoy the new update!**

* * *

"Hey, Brittany, what about this mask, does it look accurate to the one in the comic book?" I ask, leaning forward towards the closet mirror, inspecting my handiwork. Brittany's iPod is playing on shuffle in the background, blaring whatever top pop albums that are currently circulating.

"Yeah, I think that looks _way_ better." Brittany replies, rather sarcastically.

I adjust the elastic ties at the back so the mask fits more snugly against my cheeks. "Are you even looking at the other masks?" When I turn around, Brittany is on her bed, leaning against the wall, completely immersed in one of her programming textbooks and ignoring the masks laid out on the desk. "Brittany! You're not even looking at the other masks. How can you compare the differences and similarities if you're not looking at the other masks I've made?"

"It's just some college boy's Halloween party, San. I'm pretty sure if you put any old mask on everyone will think you're Batman," she explains, not even looking up from her book. "Besides, what makes you think they'll even notice any differences?"

Giving up, I peel the mask off my head and fix my hair, placing the mask on the table with the others. "Sam would know the difference. He's a total comic book junkie, even though he likes Marvel more than DC."

Brittany snaps her textbook shut so suddenly that it makes me flinch. "C'mon, take a break from preparing your costume and dance with me, I love this song!" She slides off the bed and takes my hands into hers, swinging our arms slowly to the beat. Her hips start moving too and eventually her feet start moving side to side. My own limbs are fumbling to keep up with her.

_I'll dance dance dance _

_With my hands hands hands _

_Above my head head head_

_Like jesus said…_

She lets go of my left hand and raises the other, prompting me to twirl into her waiting arms. Unsure of where to put my free hand, I lay my hand on top of hers, splayed on my hips as we sway to the steady rhythm. I can feel her chest pressed against my back and I blush when she rests her head against my shoulder.

"Y'know in this song, Gaga only says 'Bloody Mary' three times?" she whispers into my hair. Slowly, her hands slide up to my waist and guide me across her dorm room floor, my own hands squeezing hers, nervously. I don't trust my ability to speak when I'm this flustered, so I just pinch my lips together, waiting for her to continue.

"Did you ever hear that urban myth, where you say 'Bloody Mary' three times while standing in front of a full length mirror?" She guides us back to her closet mirror, peering over my shoulder at our reflection. "Close your eyes," she instructs. I obediently close my eyes, feeling her hands leave my waist to rest on my shoulders. "Now say 'Bloody Mary' three times, slowly."

I swallow, worried about what she's planning.

"Bloody Mary."

Once.

Her hands leave my shoulders and I can no longer feel her presence around me and the only sound is the music.

"Bloody Mary."

Twice.

Everything is still silent except the sound of my own breathing and quickening heartbeat in my ears. I bite my lower lip and furrow my brow, growing anxious and a little scared in anticipation.

"Bloody Mary."

Three times.

"Boo!"

My eyes snap open to find Brittany's face mere inches from mine. Surprised, I let out a squeak before stepping away quickly from Brittany, tripping over my own backpack in the process and landing on my butt. I press my hand into my chest to calm my racing heart as she laughs at me on the floor.

"That's not funny, Britt, you scared me!"

She muffles her giggles with her hand. "I didn't think you were so easy to scare. You're exactly like a little mouse."

I pout at her chosen nickname for me, crossing my arms with a huff.

"Aww, are you mad, little mouse? I'm sorry." She holds her hand out and helps me up, taking this opportunity to pull me into a hug. Our foreheads are touching and I blush again. She smiles before kissing my nose and scrunching her own.

I figured this would be an appropriate time to ease my insecurities and clarify our relationship. "Britt, are we…dating?" I whisper. Swallowing the butterflies in my stomach, I look away from her before continuing, "Because we never really talked about it and it seems like we just rushed into everything."

She pulls away and looks at me, confused. "I guess we're dating? I don't know. I really like you, Santana. Do you not want to date me?" she asks, worrying her lip.

I shake my head and squeeze her hands. "N-no, I do want to date you. It's just…the last time I dated someone like you it didn't end well."

Her face went from hurt to sad as she waited for me to explain.

I took a deep breath and paused before starting.

"It was back in high school. I was just as geeky as I am now, and my sexuality wasn't really a secret to anyone. One of the more popular girls in school had been dared to date me and take me to senior prom. I didn't know it at the time, but when things got too much for her she had publicly humiliated me by telling me about the dare at lunch one day, in the cafeteria. Shouting to everyone that was listening that 'No one would actually date a nerd like me' and that I was a fool for thinking she was actually interested in me. After that, I've had trouble trusting anyone who's friendly towards me, let alone believing that someone as pretty as you would date me."

When I looked at Brittany, she seemed on the verge of tears. "I can't believe someone would do that to you."

"Yeah, it kind of hurt my self-esteem and any relationships I've had."

"Well you should talk to me if you ever feel uncomfortable with anything. We can take things slow if you want. I don't want to hurt you."

I nodded at her words, "Yeah, can we take things a little slower? I'm not really comfortable with kissing in public but we can hold hands and hug."

Brittany smiled, "Is it okay if we sometimes kiss when we're alone then?"

"Yes, if the situation is right," I laughed.

She leaned forward until our noses touched, still smiling. "So, you think I'm pretty?"

"Definitely the prettiest girl I know in the engineering program."

Brittany nudged me away with her knuckles, "That's not a compliment! There's only like 12 girls in the program."

"Well, I can't say you're the prettiest girl on campus, until I've seen all the girls on campus."

She shook her head and pinched my nose in reply.

"So, what are you going as to Sam's party?"

Brittany's expression changes at the mention of Sam, but she speaks before I can ask her about it.

"I'm going as Supergirl." She skips to her closet and opens it, showing me her costume hanging at the end of the row.

My phone buzzes from the desk and I go over to check it. "Oh darn, I have a study group meeting in 20 minutes. I should go."

"Okay, I'm going to go for a run then. You can leave your Batman stuff here and we'll just meet up before the party tomorrow night," Brittany says in the middle of tying her hair into a messy bun.

I sighed as I gathered my things,"Batwoman. It's Batwoman, not Batman,"

She signs in return, "Okay, I'm sorry. Batwoman. The only person who's gonna care is your _good friend, Sam_."

She puts a bitter emphasis on his name. I can sense her disapproval.

We walk together down the winding path towards the main road on campus. While we walk I explain to her my fascination and my choice of going as Batwoman for the Halloween party. An out and proud superhero is definitely something I'd like to be. Whenever I come close to mentioning Sam, I can feel Brittany tense up. I'm not sure if it's because she thinks I like him in that way, which is unlikely, or she doesn't trust his intentions. She'd be right to be cautious of him because he made it kind of clear that he did like me in that way. I haven't had a chance to clear things up with him yet.

"I'll see you tomorrow night then?" Brittany asks, stopping in front of the biology building.

I nod as she looks around for any passersby before leaning in to give me a peck on the cheek. She takes off after that, jogging while waving goodbye.

I dig my phone out of my jeans' pocket and fire off a text to Sam, asking to meet him before the party so I can clear things up before he unknowingly attracts a jealous Brittany.


	5. Captain America vs Supergirl

When we arrive at the party, Sam is quick to find us, decked out in a Captain America costume. He extends a gloved hand to Brittany, the other clutching a homemade shield. He stands proudly just like Captain America would when he greets her.

"Supergirl."

She shakes his hand firmly before placing them both on her hips.

Sam puts on his best Captain America voice, "Fancy seeing you here at this party," he says, gesturing to the bustling crowd.

Brittany's arms drop to her sides, "Well, Santana invited me as her plus one. I didn't come here uninvited."

Sam looks at her through the eyeholes of his mask, confused.

"N-no, Britt, he's role-playing. Just pretend you're Supergirl," I explain. Things were looking fine for a minute there, but Brittany doesn't seem to be giving Sam the benefit of the doubt. He hadn't replied to my text, so he has no idea of the situation he's in.

"Can I get you super ladies a drink?"

I glance over to Brittany who's more interested in watching people dance to the thumping music across the room. "Sure, nothing too strong though."

He salutes to us, which Brittany doesn't see, but she turns around in time to see him winking in my direction. Sam's moving through the crowd towards the makeshift bar before Brittany can get a hold of him. She turns slowly towards me, a curious look on her face.

"What was that?"

I swallow and take a deep breath. Batwoman isn't afraid of anything, she certainly wouldn't be afraid of Supergirl. "That was nothing. He's just being a goof."

Brittany simply blinks at me, not believing my words for a second. "I think he's flirting with you. Maybe you can't see it because of your mask."

"W-what? I made this mask to have an optimized field of view," I argued, adjust my mask. "A-and besides, he's not flirting with me. He knows I'm with you."

She pauses for a moment, and it seems like she buys the lie I just told. "Okay, but if he tries anything with my Batwoman, he's going to get his ass super kicked." She flexes her muscles before "flying" off towards the dancefloor.

Everyone at this party is dressed in surprisingly detailed costumes. A bunch of college frat boys are dressed as low-budget Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and I've counted about 5 different angel and devil couples at this party already.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and when I spin around there is Sam, holding out a red cup filled with some fruity cocktail for me.

"Where's your friend?" he asks, swirling Brittany's lonely drink.

I scan the room, but can't find Brittany anywhere. "She's probably off dancing somewhere. Just take her drink, she won't mind."

He nods and we both pause to take a sip of our drinks. I frown at the bitter after taste of vodka at the back of my throat.

"Y'know, with that frown you look just like Batwoman," Sam laughs. "Is that a wig?" he asks, pointing to my hair.

"No, it's a temporary dye. I could've bought a wig to get the bright colour, but I thought this way it would match more with my skin tone since I can't change that."

He reaches over to twirl a lock of my hair between his fingers. I freeze up when he offers his hand.

"May I have this dance with you, Batwoman?"

I let out an internal sigh of relief. "Of course, Captain."

I take his hand into mine, feeling the warmth of his big hand through our red pleather gloves. He takes the drink out of my hand to set them down on an endtable before guiding me to the dance floor.

The song changes as soon as we set foot on the makeshift dance space, to a slower love ballad. It's as if someone wants to make this night difficult for me. Sam pauses and turns to me, questioningly.

I nod to him, silently accepting the change of events. He puts his hands on my waist, my hands on his broad shoulders as we sway gently to the music. We're standing less than an arm's length apart, but not close enough to be pressed right up against each other like other couples on the floor.

He leans in and pulls me closer. "I'm glad you came, tonight," he whispers into my ear.

I bite my tongue from ruining the moment by telling him the truth and try to find a way to steer this conversation in another direction.

"Well, I had to see if you were a true comic book fan," I explain. I move my fingers to inspect the handiwork of his costume. "Not bad, Sammy Evans."

He laughs and shakes his head, "Of course I'm a true comic book fan. I started on this as soon as the movie came out."

I gawk at him, "That was like last year!"

"Do you know how hard it is to find the right material? My mom spent hours sewing the emblem into the mask," he says, pointing to his forehead.

I roll my eyes playfully, "And here I thought you did it all by yourself. Now I'm not that impressed."

"Hey, I made the shield by myself. I'm not good at sewing and things like that."

"Well, I'll have you know I made this all by myself. You don't know difficult until you're trying to find a bodysuit that doesn't make you look like you're getting ready to join Jacques Cousteau.

"Well, I think you look great," he says, smiling down at me.

I look away from his big grin, blushing, not wanting him to see my face no matter how well hidden it is beneath the mask. In the corner of my eye I see a flash of red and blue and then a hand on Sam's shoulder is tugging him away.

"Hey there, Captain. Mind if I take it from here?" Brittany asks, almost too innocently.

Sam looks between at Brittany and then at me. "The song isn't even over yet."

Brittany doesn't waver and looks up at him, clenching her jaw. "Are you challenging me?"

He turns towards her and puffs out his chest, "That depends. Do you accept, Supergirl?"

Brittany takes a step toward him and I can only stand and watch, motionless, as they stare each other down, their faces tense and posture strong.

Brittany is the first to break the silent staring contest, "Meet me at the bar in 20 minutes."

"10."

"Fine, 10 minutes. We're going to arm wrestle for a dance with Batwoman."

Sam smirks and crosses his arms, making his chest look even more pronounced.

"Do we have a deal?" Brittany asks, holding out her hand.

He looks at me and pauses.

"Do it, Sam! You got this in the bag!" someone shouts from the crowd.

At some point during all of this, a crowd had formed around the three of us, music still playing but long forgotten.

Sam nods and smiles in the direction of a group of boys as he shakes Brittany's hand.

"Great, I'll see you in 10 minutes then. Gloves _off_." And with that, Brittany worms her way through the crowd and disappears.

Sam shakes his head and sighs, a little baffled at Brittany's aggression. Suddenly, my mind processes what just happened and I grab Sam before he can get away. "I need to talk to you, it's important."

When he doesn't try to get away or say anything I continue. "There's a big misunderstanding here, that I need to clear up."

Sam stays silent, but his mouth begins to frown. He's hoping that I won't tell him bad news.

I take a deep breath and silently curse the gods above for having to break the heart of a boy who meant no harm. "I wanted to tell you this before the party, but you never answered my texts. I thought it was obvious when you met me, but…"

I stop when I notice Sam's mouth has developed into a complete frown.

Worrying my lip I confess to him, "I'm not interested in you, at least, not in that way."

His shoulders slump a little and he massages a non-existent kink at his neck, just to occupy his hands. "Well, that kind of sucks. Now I have to go and arm wrestle your friend for an awkward dance with you."

Oh yeah, I still had to tell him about Brittany too.

"I don't know if this will make you feel any better, but Brittany's not just a friend."

Sam tilts his head in confusion while I wring my fingers, nervously.

"S-She's…" I need to think of a way to lighten the situation and break the news to him at the same time. When my mind finds the answer, I laugh, much to Sam's dismay. "She's the Renee Montoya to my Kate Kane."

He lets out a laugh at the reference, puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "Say no more, Batwoman. Your secret identity is safe with me."

"Really?"

"You can trust Captain America," he answers saluting again for the second time that night.

One of the teenage mutant ninja turtles calls out from the bar counter, "Hey, Captain, get over here! Supergirl is getting impatient."

We walk together towards the bar where Brittany is sitting at a small table, an empty stool for Sam on the opposite side. Cheers and hoots and fists are bumped as Sam takes off his gloves and hands them to his friends. They pat him on the back as he takes his seat, reassuring him that Captain America can beat Supergirl any day.

One of the ninja turtles comes to the side of the table and beckons the crowd to come closer. "Okay guys, place your bets! Who will win this arm wrestle for a dance with the elusive, Batwoman? Will it be Supergirl?" he asks, gesturing to Brittany.

Cheers erupt from one side of the room, consisting of mostly girls and a few boys.

"Or will it be Captain America?"

Before he even finishes his sentence, the rowdy boys on Sam's side of the table erupt into cheers.

"Arms up!"

Brittany and Sam both place their elbows on the table, firmly, gripping their opponent's hands. Brittany's hand is much more slender and small compared to Sam's, but it is in no way, weaker than his. Both hands already squeezing the other as their veins begin to bulge at the wrist and forearm.

The announcer places his hands over their clasped hands and counts down. When he releases, they instantly start pulling, biceps flexed as they strain to win.

A minute goes by and neither has given up a lead, their hands locked in their initial positions. Sam pulls a face, showing the first signs of exhaustion.

"You're good, Captain," Brittany smirks. "But I'm better."

Brittany twists their joined hands towards her, making Sam stand out of his seat, giving her the leverage she needs to slam his hand onto the table. Cheers and groans erupt from the room as Brittany leaps from her seat, triumphant.

Sam massages his hand as he winks in my direction, suggesting he might've thrown the match. When I catch him wincing at the pain in his arm, I realize he didn't throw the match at all.

Brittany appears next to me holding out her hand. "I believe you owe me a dance."

I can only smile as I take her hand and let her lead me to the dancefloor.

We danced for the rest of the night and Sam only cuts in once, after asking Brittany for permission, of course.


End file.
